


you need to go (but I need you to stay)

by ruinsrebuilt



Series: tumblr prompts [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: (because they care), Angst, Arguing, Canon Era, Day of Days, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, The Breaking Point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:18:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinsrebuilt/pseuds/ruinsrebuilt
Summary: 3 times Bill and Joe disagreed, because they cared.





	you need to go (but I need you to stay)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the tumblr prompt: You need to go. 
> 
> when I received this request, three ideas immediately popped into my head and I thought 'why not?' 
> 
> hope you enjoy <3

I. 

 

They were supposed to wait for Winter’s order. Joe was ready, watching, weapon aimed at one of the soldiers walking next to the cart, completely unaware that he was about to feel a bullet from Joe’s rifle and then nothing, ever again.

Joe held his breath, his finger resting on the trigger, ready to squeeze until the forest turned to chaos. 

Out of nowhere the soldiers started to fall. It was a beat later that Joe registered the rapid-fire sound of a thompson coming from his right. Guarnere. 

Damnit. He’d known Bill was angry, and who wouldn’t be, in Bill’s place? Bill was going to personally chop off Hitler’s balls, and Joe would back him up all the way, for Henry.

But Bill had just jeopardized an entire mission, and that was where Joe drew the line. 

They had to keep moving, and he knew it would be useless to talk to Bill until he’d had a chance to cool off, so he made a point to give him some space. It wasn’t an easy thing to do when some scrap of a boy from Able company kept saying all the wrong things, but eventually Bill seemed to have returned to himself enough that Joe thought he might be able to reason with him. 

They were in the middle of god-knows-where, slogging through marshy farmland, when Joe finally had the chance to sidle up next to Bill in the line they had formed. 

Bill shook his head when he saw Joe fall in step beside him. 

“Did you see ‘im? He just sat there.” He spat. 

So maybe he wasn’t as cooled off as Joe thought. He sighed. 

“He didn’t have a weapon. What’s he gonna do, shout ‘em?” 

“Shouts at me for killin’ krauts.” Bill huffed, swatting at mosquitoes with more force than absolutely necessary. 

“He just wanted you to wait for his command.” 

“Joe, he don’t even drink.” 

Bill said this as though it were supposed to indicate anything about the man’s ability to command. Sometimes Joe seriously wondered about Bill’s logic. 

“You need to go up there and apologize.” 

Bill stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Joe incredulously. “Joe, it ain’t gonna happen.” He made a show of scoffing. “Apologize for doing my job, now that’s an idea.” 

Joe just shrugged and kept walking, eventually ending up behind Winters. He may not have shown it, but he knew Bill heard what he was saying. He just needed time to think. 

 

 

II. 

 

Joe had been at the aid station for barely a day and he wanted to get the hell out. He didn’t belong there. His wound was minor, he knew men with much worse who were still on the line. 

He needed to get back to his men. Back to Bill. 

As soon as he had a chance, he bribed the first jeep driver he could find. It didn’t take much; supplies were scarce — not as scarce as Bastogne, but close enough. When Joe tossed him a pack of cigarettes and told him where he wanted to go, the driver didn’t even so much as glance at the sling around Joe’s arm. He simply nodded and told him to hop in. 

When Winters pulled him aside he thought he was done for — he’d been caught and would be sent back before he even got to the line. But Winters was a good guy. A good leader. He knew what it was like to be separated from the men, and when Joe explained why he’d come back, his resolve seemed to weaken. 

“I’d really like to head back with the fellas, sir.”

Winters studied him for a moment, watched as he pulled off his sling and put his helmet back on as if to say ‘good as new.’

“Alright,” he said after a long moment. “Then go.” 

Joe had never been more grateful. 

He was surprised at the warm welcome he received from the guys. He’d been expecting at least some kick-back about him having gone AWOL the same day he’d been sent to the aid-station, but they all just seemed glad to see him. Even Bill, who, like the hypocrite he was, never failed to rake his men over the coals when they didn’t get the proper medical attention, was grinning from ear to ear. 

He thought he’d gotten way with it. He thought wrong. 

As soon as they were alone together, which happened to be the moment Bill stumbled across Joe trying to fortify the cover on their foxhole, Bill’s tune changed. 

“Goddamnit, Joe, what the hell?” 

Joe looked up from where he was holding his arm, and tried to act as though he hadn't just been wincing in pain. “What?” 

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Toye. Why the hell are you here? You didn’t even stay at the aid station for one day. What kind of stunt is that?” Bill hopped down into the hole and stood in front of Joe, arms crossed. 

Joe let his arm fall to his side. “It ain’t even that bad. And I thought it was obvious — I wanted to get back here, for you.” 

Bill scowled and moved so that he was right in Joe’s face. “Don’t make this about me, you selfish prick. If you had thought about me at all, you would have stayed at that aid station, out of harm's way.” 

Joe was dumbstruck. He _had_ thought about Bill, every second he was away, but it had never occurred to him that Bill might not want him there. 

“You…you aren’t happy to see me?” Even Joe could hear the hurt in his voice. 

Bill shook his head exasperated. “Christ, Joe, of course I’m happy to see you. I’m just not happy to see you _here_.” 

He studied him for a moment. 

“You need to go back, Joe.” 

No. No, there was no way Joe was going back there. The list of things he wouldn’t do for Bill was short to the point of bordering on non-existence, but on it was this: he would not abandon Bill. 

“I can’t do it, Bill. I can’t leave you here.” 

Bill stared him down, unwilling to budge. But Joe was just as unwilling. 

A laugh somewhere between anger and hysteria ripped out of Bill’s throat. He shook his head and closed the rest of the distance between them, grabbing Joe by the scruff of his neck and yanking him into a hug. 

“Why can’t you ever listen?” 

 

 

III. 

 

Joe couldn’t focus. Not on anything important at least. He knew he was being irrational, fixating on his helmet in the middle of artillery raining down on them, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about anything else. He didn’t want to think about the searing pain in his thigh, didn’t want to think about how much danger Bill was putting himself in, didn’t want to think about what this meant for them. 

Then, for the second time that day, the world went searingly white. 

When Joe came-to the first thing he did was look for Bill. He wished he hadn’t. It was one thing to see your own flesh torn and missing. It was another to see your lover writhing in the same kind of pain. 

Bill was propped up against a tree, looking down at his leg in queasy shock. Joe called his name, and Bill’s eyes shot to his face. 

“Joe.” He sounded as scared as Joe felt. 

Joe didn’t feel like he was in a position to give comfort but Bill needed him so he said, “We’re gonna be okay, Bill. We're gonna be—” he hissed as Doc Roe tightened the bandage around his leg “— we’re gonna be okay.” 

Bill nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course we are. We’ll get into all kinds of trouble at the hospital. Maybe even chase some nurses.” 

Joe tried to laugh but it came out as a grunt. 

A stretcher arrived, and Doc pointed to Bill. “Over here. Take this man.” 

“Hey, no,” hysteria was rising in Bill’s voice, “I need to stay with—” 

Joe cut him off. “No, Bill, look at me." He swallowed against another wave of pain. "You need to go.” 

Bill looked like he was going to argue. 

“Please Bill.” Joe pleaded. “I’ll be right behind you. Promise.” 

Bill glanced between his leg and Joe’s pleading face. Finally he whispered. “Okay. You’d better keep that promise.” 

As they loaded him onto the stretcher, Bill seemed to remember something. 

“Hey Joe. I told you I’d beat you back to the states.”

This time Joe managed a laugh.


End file.
